


all the demons are here

by pistolgrip



Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Fluff, Gen, Slice of Life, mentioned cu/bazett bc avenger is a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 10:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14187222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pistolgrip/pseuds/pistolgrip
Summary: Life with Avenger keeps her on her toes.





	all the demons are here

**Author's Note:**

> i was thinking about how much i loved these two's interactions, even though it's been a few years now since i played f/ha  
> idk how many people would read this but for all the bazett and avenger lovers here's my contribution
> 
> au where everything is ordinary and not magical, bazett ends up in fuyuki anyway somehow, lancer runs the flower shop, and avenger's not a completely evil little shit and is like shiro's older brother or something. i didn't think that far ahead

“Avenger?"

There’s no answer. She’s come not to expect one, especially when he’s pulled a prank as blatant as this one. He’s not getting very creative anymore, she thinks as the bleached white bones of the medical model skeleton gleam at her from within her closet.

“Very funny,” she shouts throughout their shared apartment. As she reaches out towards the skeleton, it raises its arms and screams at the top of its lungs.

Skeletons can’t move, and skeletons can’t scream. So her mind is sharp as her body, which reacts by screaming at the top of _her_ lungs and giving it a hell of a right hook.

The skeleton falls backwards into her pile of clothes, accompanied with a rather dense _thump_ against the back of her closet wall and obnoxious laughter.

“Holy shit,” her roommate cackles, “you should’ve seen the look on your face.” She steps out of the way as Avenger throws the skeleton off himself, and it topples on the ground next to her.

She is remarkably unamused. “Did you steal this skeleton from the labs too?”

“Nah, actually killed a person this time, bleached the bones and everything.” His grin is bright from within the darkness of her closet, and she extends her left hand out to him. She doesn’t miss the way he eyes it warily before grabbing it. “It’s definitely more fun to scare you than it is to kill some random dude, though.”

She pulls him up easily—he’s always been kind of light—and sighs. “One of these days, I fear you may not be joking.”

“‘One of these days’? You already have more faith in me than I expected,” he laughs. Avenger picks up his skeleton and drags it unceremoniously out of Bazett’s room. “Oi, I smell takeout.”

“You didn’t answer when I asked if you were home.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I was in the closet waiting to _scare you_ , duh.”

Bazett hears a clatter from what she knows to be his room, and wonders just how many medical models he’s managed to take. He’s had the misfortune (or fortune, if you were really to ask him) of being assigned as a teaching assistant to a school that was closing down. At least he’s making the best of his situation, but she wishes it wasn’t in the form of taking artificial body parts and tossing it wherever he wanted.

“Anyway, Bazett,” her roommate starts, and she sighs.

“I am aware of what day it is.”

“Then grab the takeout and then get in my room. Your left arm needs tuning.”

She twists her wrist, feeling more resistance than usual. Between not having an awful lot of money and living in a small town, she’s endlessly grateful for how lucky she is that she had enough money to pull off a prosthetic, let alone have a roommate into mechanical repair _and_ the human body at the same time.

Avenger is a disaster, and Bazett doesn’t quite know if—beneath all the vitriol and snark—he’s actually a good person, but he does a good job of repairs and is actually rather knowledgeable, so she leaves it be. She could be in worse places. (She has been.)

 

* * *

 

Bazett is scooping food in her mouth with her right hand while Avenger works silently on her left, before he ruins a nice calm moment, like he always does.

“So.”

“Hm?”

“You and Lancey boy, huh?”

The plastic fork snaps in her hand. She calmly searches through the plastic bag of takeout and finds another one before continuing. “I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“I know you’re not one for variety in your food, but to keep getting takeout from the same place almost every day that happens to be across the street from _the_ flower shop is a bit suspicious, isn’t it? I’m almost jealous. I can’t believe I’m not the only man in your life now,” Avenger coos, mockingly sweet. “So, he nice to you? Buy you dinner? Got a big gay bulge—what, he’s Irish, that’s a thing, isn’t it? Like, the Hound of Chulainn’s weapon and all that?”

“That’s the Gae Bolg—”

“Oh no, no, wait, let me respond for you,” he says before she can finish her complaint. He takes her prosthetic, the one he’s currently trying to maintenance, and curls in all her fingers and thumb except for her middle finger. _“Bazett? Flipping_ the _bird_ at _me?_ You _do_ have some fight in you, after all!”

“I punched you in the face with no reservations ten minutes ago,” she responds, unimpressed.

“That wasn’t a fight so as much as it was preying on your innocent roommate without giving him a chance to retaliate, which I think is rather rude of you,” he says. “But I’ll forgive and forget. At least, that’s what a nice person would say, yeah? But I’m a demon, and here are your choices: you tell me about good ol’ Lancey-boy, and I don’t sabotage your arm for the day.”

“One whole day of peace,” Bazett muses. “That’s a tall order for you.”

“I know. But as I am your guardian angel on this earth, I will do my best to protect you.” He smiles, charming—and it really is, because Avenger knows how to be nice when he wants to be—and Bazett just rolls her eyes. “Or, how about this: I have a _fantastic_ idea,” Avenger starts, as he makes last checks over her arm.

“I somehow don’t trust those words when they come from you.” Bazett humours him anyway.

He releases her arm and she draws it back into her lap, watching warily as he leans on the table and rests his head in his hands. The expression on his face is mockingly dreamy, looking for all the world like a lovestruck young man, and she knows that _anything_ could come out of that mouth right now.

“You should ask him about his penis.”

It’s trying to get a rise out of her, and she knows that she’s unsuccessful at hiding the way her face flares red and the annoyed twitch of her eyebrow, because Avenger cackles. “That doesn’t seem like it’ll end well, no matter the situation.”

“Suit yourself,” Avenger shrugs. “I think he’d be into it. Boy’s probably a beast in bed. But you gotta tell me something.”

She doesn’t know why she doesn’t just ignore him. But it’s not like she hates him, after all, and he _is_ kind of entertaining. “Must I?”

“When you finally get in his pants and all that, you gotta tell me what it’s like to tug on the world’s longest rat tail. Or the world’s longest mullet. Have you _seen_ that thing?”

“Goodbye, Avenger,” Bazett says, standing up suddenly.

“You gonna leave your leftovers here, then?” Avenger asks, gesturing to the mostly empty styrofoam container still sitting on his desk-workbench combination.

She’s feeling a little spiteful, maybe a little kind. Avenger can clean up after her for all this unnecessary heckling about her not-infatuation, because she _does not_ have something as childishly inane as a crush on this man that Avenger so insists she has. “Yes.”

“Sweet.” Avenger digs into the scraps and she cuffs him over the head with her prosthetic arm.

 

 


End file.
